


Reactionary

by msmami



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Betrayal, Cunnilingus, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Scissoring, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 04:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmami/pseuds/msmami
Summary: "For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."





	Reactionary

Oasis seemed like a place out of a dream. Just to think someone somewhere decided to create a paradise to celebrate the world’s greatest intellectual minds seemed too good to be true and you would frame the stories you were told about Oasis in your early youth as fairy tales. But after the Omnic Crisis, every little reminder of a more stable society sounded like a fantasy. Clinging onto the slightest sign of hope in this world that was dying and being rebuilt at the same rate was enough to send your head spinning, but it wasn’t like your eyes traveled up from the comfort of your studies all that often.

It was only once you fully invested yourself in your work and went to college for a diploma that the flock of people who came to your doorstep a few months ago were incredibly impressed by that the prospect of actually going there was the only fictional thing about Oasis, Iraq.

And yet, fate managed to devise a plan that put your years of devoted genetic research to good use. Finally, a chance to really prove yourself among the best of the best. Your chance to be something, anything that truly mattered in a world that was almost at its neck with a new apocalypse. And through that chaos, rose Oasis like the beacon of promise you desperately needed.

When you boarded off the ship and onto the clean and earthy outdoors of Oasis, it still felt like you were walking on air. Your guide escorted you through the courtyard, finger to their ear piece as you trotted after them like a lost dog. The rest of the city was buzzing with life this time of day and the early afternoon was filled with multiple men, women, and omnics gathered out in the open to enjoy the warm daylight. There were a million conversations going on at once: discussions of projects and life changing research, blueprints projected from holopads and being mused over-everywhere you looked there seemed to be someone on the brink of some new discovery and that was part of why you were driven here in the middle of such a vast land isolated by miles of ocean.

Though you’ve done the paperwork and proved yourself capable of some of the most advanced genetic research in your field even at a young age, you couldn’t help but feel humbled by the offering. Being a mere student at Oasis was one thing-and you were already registered to continue your college work in the university, starting tomorrow-a visiting scientist collaborating with other geniuses was another, but an apprenticeship working under one of the few Oasis Ministers?

This would mold your career for the rest of your life. Your work would be globally recognized, your name would be in the libraries of Oasis until the end of time. You would be working alongside one of the most brilliant people of the past generation and get to live in paradise among fellow brilliant minds for years to come. The papers you would publish, the best technology literally at your fingertips-it was a rush that had you walking through the doors of the spacious genetics lab with only three hours of sleep to work on.

Your guide turned on their heel to look at you, pushing their clipboard beneath his arm. “I’ll go grab Dr. O'Deorain. She’s very excited to meet you.”

“I hope so,” You replied meekly as you watched your guide leave and head down a corridor. When they were away, you took the chance to finally get a good look at yourself.

You straightened your clothing in the first available reflection, the screen of a monitor reflecting just enough of the overhead lighting for you to at least make out your face and torso. While the Ministers had garments only as grand as their advanced intellect, their underlings wore a simplified alternative. You dawned a tunic with a gradient reminiscent of a starry horizon with blue blending into a rich lavender around your hips. Beneath was a pair of slacks, the bottom tucked into a pair of white boots said to be more appropriate and safe lab attire than the old church shoe flats you showed up with. Your personal favorite detail was the symbol on your right sleeve, one of interweaving DNA that identified you as the Genetic Minister’s apprentice. This alone showed you were not any other temporary lab assistant but a protégé handpicked to achieve true excellence alongside one of the smartest people on the planet.

You earned this. You worked for it, and yet you couldn’t help the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as you observed the immense laboratory you would be occupying for possibly the next few years. Such an opportunity millions of people would kill for and you were seconds away from puking up your lunch onto the freshly waxed tiles. A part of you wanted to sit down but you wouldn’t want to give yourself a wedgie or pick up some stray lint that wasn’t dusted off. This first impression meant everything, you had no chances for mistakes.

“She’s right this way, Doctor.” Your guide’s voice broke through the fog of your thoughts and you assumed the proper position. With hands firmly clasped behind your back and a straight posture, you looked as presentable as the diagram in your Oasis instruction manual.

Your guide made his way back to you with the Minister you’d be working under a few steps behind him.

“Dr. O’Deorain, this is y/n. They’ll be accompanying you for now after her classes.” Your guide gestured towards you and you gave your most professional smile.

“Hello Doctor,” You said, offering a handshake despite how clammy your palms felt.

You had heard plenty about Dr. O’Deorain, even studied a photo of her in your pamphlet, but seeing her in person was a whole different story. For starters, she was _tall_ , towering over your male tour guide and beating you by a few generous inches. Her features were as sharp and angular as woman of her years should have been and yet her eyes-one blue and the other a piercing red-shined with a certain youthful energy. Red hair slicked to a point against her head was revealed without the usual Minister headset you’d seen so many times and the color is so deep and vibrant you had to double check her well-kept brows to ensure it was all natural.

Her clothing, while not mirroring your own, was that of a simple but potent lab coat that reached her ankles and partially opened to reveal a simple black dress shirt and teal tie. The latex gloves on her hands implied she was likely in the middle of something before coming out to greet you but the look she offered in your direction appeared to be one of genuine intrigue.

“Pleasure to meet you, y/n. Dr. O’Deorain, Minister of Genetics.” _My God, her voice._ As mature and distinguished as the Irish cream she’s probably tasted herself in Dublin.

She removed the glove on her left hand and extended it out to you. It’s then that you notice just how long her nails are, sharp too as a few of them painted a deep purple brushed against the skin during the handshake. You swear you saw something in the handbook about appropriate nail length and clipped your own nails prior to your arrival, but perhaps Ministers weren’t obliged to such limitations.

“Thank you,” You said. “I’m very excited to be working with you, ma’am.”

“As am I,” She said, and her smirk makes your heart race. “I have a feeling you and I will make a lot of progress together.”

* * *

You try your best not to stare while you and Moira work. It’s hard not to be enticed by her and the simplest of movements looking elegant and refined in her natural environment. Though she is your superior, your sessions are mostly quiet aside from the clinking of test tubes and typing. You know just enough about your field to not need much handholding though the more complex parts and the new project Moira had in mind required you to sit and watch to ensure everything was just so. Then and only then could you get away with staring at her thin lips, that long neck, that penetrating stare seeming to hold you in place as you carefully followed each and every instruction.

Gawking at a woman who had to be at least twenty times your senior seemed a little derogatory. You weren't in high school any more, hadn't been for a fair amount of time now, and you liked to think your natural intellect kept you from being distracted from things as childish as crushes. _A crush?_

No, not possible. You had just met Minister O'Deorain in the flesh a few days ago and your interactions were as civil as your relationship should have been. But you couldn't help but consider just the sliver of possibility that your interest in her had more than just her genetic achievements in mind. "Paying attention?"

Her voice broke through the fog of your thoughts and you adjusted yourself with an embarrassing little gasp. Moira stood before you next to a display she was shifting around with the tips of her fingers and a long silver pointer of some sort. How much it resembled the hilt of a whip would be a decent topic for your fantasies tonight. You cleared your throat and placed your hand behind your back before responding, "Yes, ma'am. I have to admit your theory on enhancing DNA sounds extraordinary. I've never heard anything like it."

"Not many have," She replied, turning back to her presentation. You very easily got the gist of her idea, a genetic modification serum you’d be distributing into an unseen device Moira and a small team you'd probably never meet assembled behind the scenes. The properties were capable of regenerating cellular structures in an instant, clearly revolutionizing medicine as the modern world knew it.

“If everything goes accordingly,” Moira said, sliding her steel pointer closed until it came a to resounding _click_. “The newly developed muscle tissue should only be stronger and more durable than its predecessor.”

“Are you sure such fast regeneration won’t come with any…ill side effects?” You asked before immediately shutting your mouth. Moira knew what she was doing, and you had the raw nerve to question her in the middle of her lecture. Shame on you.

You’re so busy mentally degrading yourself for the act that Moira’s reaction came as a surprise. With a sly laugh that got your cheeks burning, she replied, “Don’t worry. If we’re lucky, it’ll only hurt for a second, _mo stór_.”

At that, she told you to follow her over to a bench off to the corner of the room. Atop it sat what appeared to be a container covered by a simple, black blanket. As to what could be hidden behind it was apparently being pumped full of mysterious fluids that shined gold and violet from a source burrowed into the wall. Moira removed the blanket to reveal a small rabbit, dozing off in a nest of newspaper clippings and hay. There were no injections or incisions made, just a scattering of small and colorful droplets of mist of the two respective colors coating its fur. The rabbit seemed indifferent, its ears twitching to and fro as it was coated in the light shower Moira had hardwired into the box.

“Is this the result you were expecting?” You asked, leaning down to get a closer look.

Moira sighed, “Not exactly. This is just a small sample of a much more complicated procedure. Our little friend here should be experiencing an accelerated reaction to his biology being rewritten. And yet…” She pouted and the expression looks oddly complacent and mature on her refined features. “No reaction to recall.”

“Have you tried giving a more concentrated amount? Though I admit, I admire how gentle you’re being with him.”

Moira shrugged, “I think you’ll find that being gentle isn’t my forte, _acushla_.” She gave a contemplative look at her right hand, still covered by a latex glove. “Though I suppose even the boldest of us have our limits.”

You tried not to think too heavily on that statement and instead let your gaze settle back on the rabbit who finally seemed to notice your presence. The little thing had to be an adult and though you didn't specialize in zoology, the tan fur and big dark eyes showed it was a healthy Cashmere Lop. Where Moira managed to get a hold of one was beyond your understanding and you wouldn't bother bringing it up unless it was vital to the project. "Precious, isn't he?"

"Oh yeah," You said. "Really cute."

"Would you like to hold him? It usually helps take the edge off from being in the cage all day."

"It won't interfere with the results?"

"Not that there was anything noteworthy to record," Moira said, already unlocking the cage and pulling the rabbit out with gentle hands before passing him over to you. The rabbit was just a little heavier than you anticipated and you had to cradle him in your arms as he curiously nudged at your face with his nose. "Does he have a name?"

"Number Seventeen but on certain days his name is Caramel. A nice follow up to Chocolate, Strawberry, and Vanilla." Moira laughed softly at her own joke.

"What happened to the other sixteen flavors?"

"They came and went, some more gracefully than others," Moira said. "In the meantime, my records have never been more delicious." Another joke and this time you're the one to laugh. Caramel began to nibble on the lapel of your shirt and you scratched his soft head with the tip of your finger. "Don't most people use rats or guinea pigs for animal testing?"

"I'm no stranger to them, but rabbits just have a certain draw to their species I couldn't resist, a kind of innocence and purity I can't help but be fascinated by. You'll come to understand I bare a certain fascination with the more delicate things in this world, the human condition being one of them."

If the last line was another zinger was debatable though you couldn't help but admire the sort of casual vibe to your current conversation. When you two were to ever talk, it was over work and numbers and chemicals, rarely ever leaving time for anything that didn't tie into the topic of genetics. But now, everything felt so tranquil, as if it were just the two of you left on this planet. Moira was leaning against the lab bench, watching you keep the rabbit pleased with a simple flex of your finger. She had taken off her lab coat some time earlier, revealing a simple white dress shirt and tie. Whatever gel she used to slick back her red locks was starting to wear out, leaving a few pieces amiss around her forehead. It gave her a sort of look that seemed a little too approachable and human for a woman of her genius.

"He likes you." She said as Caramel pawed at your chest to get a little closer to your cheek.

"I hope so, I can barely keep a fish alive."

"Fish," She said, beaming. "Another future test subject, perhaps?"

"Only if your concoction can stay stable in water," You replied, handing Caramel over to Moira to place him back into the cage. "Worth testing out some day, you think?"

"I like to think we have time," Moira replied. "Perhaps a goldfish or a nurse shark if I can get my hands on one."

"A whole shark?" You said, unable to suppress your laugh. "I suppose a goldfish would be a good starting point, though seeing how this effects a shark is something I certainly want to be around for."

"How my research can change a variety of living creatures is something I think about every day. The powerful people who keep us all in line can either accept it or run away from what I-what _we_ , have to offer. But..." Almost instantly, Moira reached out and began to play with a loose strand of hair hanging by your ear and you felt your heart jump up your throat. "Gentle creatures have a place in this world too, mo stor."

* * *

Sometimes you play dumb just to get her over to your bench, ask trivial questions or make minor miscalculations at the off chance she would brush against you just one more time, that her scent would be left lingering in her wake, that she would touch your hair again the way she did before a few days ago. Not that you were counting. Despite all the amazing things you were learning by her side, it was moments you two would have chances to talk that really made you appreciate her as not only a genius but a person. It was normally when checking in on Caramel, petting his ears and feeding him bits of lettuce Moira had stored in a freezer. Another day you tried nailing down what species of fish you'd gather up in a few months for future tests. Despite Moira's somewhat icy presence, there was a certain soft spot you couldn't help but notice. The woman did have the strangest fondness for things ranging from animals to classic literature. Alongside weighty textbooks were a few favorites stored in the corners-poetry collections, short stories, some fables from her home country still in mint condition. After your work was done for today, Moira would show you some of her favorite passages and you were currently digesting the work of an old Irish poet Moira showed a certain intrigue for.

"I'm not all beakers and equations you know, a bit of culture always keeps the palette diverse."

"You do strike me as the artistic type." You said, skimming through her copy of The Nightingale and the Rose in the fading daylight. "And these books are so ancient, I can't believe you could still get a hold of them."

"I have my ways," Moira said, licking a covered finger before turning to a bookmarked section of her own volume. "If I want something, not many things stop me from having it. Some people haven't learned that quite yet."

The concern about her nails was never brought up as she was always in a proper set of gloves during working hours and you didn’t have the privilege of seeing her any other time. A Minister’s privacy was very important and though you could explore the rest of Oasis, interactions with Miss O’Deorain was limited to only a few hours of your day. But a part of you wondered why you were even bothering. It wasn’t like you’d only be seeing Dr. O’Deorain momentarily, you were her partner after all and at least half the month was through by now. And you still had a little over a year or more to get to know the woman until she decided you could forge your own path in science. Yet you still found yourself hopelessly drawn to her. When your sessions ended and you could retreat back to your dorm to cater to a handful of projects your professors assigned, you anxiously awaited the next few hours you would get to spend together the following day. Every second you spent next to each other was vital and you couldn’t help but yearn for each and every day to be as fulfilling as the last.

You would always muse quietly to yourself during your classes, every bit of information going over your head as the teacher would rail on an on about things you’d already tested yourself in your own bedroom. Your eyes were on the clock, stylus tapping impatiently against a holopad filled with more illegible scribbles than notes. You had much more important things to cater to.

Try not to succeed too quickly, you would tell yourself as you commenced your after-class ritual. As you brushed your hair and straightened your tunic, you imagined the conversation topics you already mapped out in your head. You brushed up on some Gaelic from a language app on your holopad when you overheard the doctor muttering in her native tongue and were overwhelmed by just how lovely it sounded. The linguistics of the language were just a little too complicated for you to say each word phonetically without making a fool of yourself though you were grinning ear to ear upon the realization that _acushla_ and _mo stór_ came with some flattering translations, that is if you even spelled it correctly.

Moira rubbed you off as the kind of person who addressed everyone as some sort of pet name though to know you were even worthy of such sweet words had your cheeks burning bright before you could even apply your makeup. Well, the fact you were even going out of your way to _wear_ makeup was telling of just how infatuated you were.

A crush. You had a crush.

But your physical appearance wasn’t what was important, you had to impress Moira with your intellect, but there was no way you’d be topping her in her genius anytime soon. Where you failed in your own wisdom you would have to accomplish in knowledge of a different variety. Knowledge about her, appreciation for her, understanding her and her work. This was where what the Oasis had to offer on the Ministers came into fruition. Oasis was often rather secretive about who and what was mentioned about their little personal society, normally as means to build suspense for what new things were to come before exposing it to the public. But every city had their secrets and some were hidden behind a simple Wi Fi route reserved for students of your caliber.

You’d only be digging around to brush up on material and maybe find a way to save those flattering snapshots of Moira at ceremonies and adorned in the traditional Minister garment into your phone….all educational reasons, really.

The Minister profiles were brief and yet still robust with information. Nothing too personal, though the history of their fields and even their own personal assistants were mentioned bellow. No link leading to a long list of flattering words and accomplishments quite yet. Moira’s was easy to come across and you went through her biography only to get the diet version of what you really wanted. Born in Dublin, pushing forty-nine, some things about medicine and cellular research detailing DNA modification that could maximize human potential-

“Hm,” You reread the words a few more times to make sure. The text was bolded, hinting at a link on the other side. Something of Moira’s, perhaps? An essay even, according to the quotations and credit to a certain Miss O’Deorain in the corner. You suddenly grew timid as you considered reaching out to access the file. Though it was out in the open for anyone to read, at least on the grounds of Oasis members, it still felt like you were prying into information meant to be secret to you.

No, that was silly. If anyone deserved to read Moira's work, it was you.

* * *

 Your patience truly came to a hilt when you dropped by the lab ahead of time, knowing fully well that Moira was the only one with the key to it.

 “Good afternoon,” You greeted her, any sleep you could have possibly had at this hour already shaken off.

“Well aren’t you an early bird,” Dr. O’Deorain replied as a friendly smile crept over her lips. “Eager to start the day, y/n?”

“You could say that,” You said, watching as Moira undid the lock and even held the door open for you to walk in first. You watched the lab buzz to life as the two of you entered to the welcoming overhead lights and a lighter clicking to a steady flame. The diagrams and analysis from yesterday were still on the board and your most vital notes stored safely in your private desk.

“I’m actually glad you decided to drop by so early, I wanted to go over some things with you before our session officially started.”

“Well, that’s convenient,” you said. “I hope nothing’s wrong.”

“No, no,” Moira said. “Quite the opposite, actually. I must admit, I've been enjoying our time together."

"I can say the same," You replied, straitening your tunic with fidgety hands. You weren't quite sure when to drop the information onto Moira about you reading her paper. A part of you wondered if a handful of people came rushing to her about it multiple times before and it was a monotonous enough topic that she had a list of answers already prepared. You didn't want to be like everyone else. You wanted her to know you and remember you as someone important. If you wanted to be like her or be with her was a question that plagued you as you said, “I read your research paper, the one about genetic modification.”

Moira gave you a look of honest surprise, uncommon for someone who already seemed to be ten steps ahead of you. “Oh, really? I can’t believe anyone could still find that old thing.”

“The Oasis archives are pretty immense,” You said. “Anyway, I was actually really fascinated by what you had to say. I know some of the details about customizing DNA can come off as…controversial and dangerous but, I always told myself to believe that science should never be restricted to a standard of right and wrong. I mean, we should think about the consequences of our actions, but like you said, we can’t always be gentle if you want to make accomplishments. I admire that about you, ma’am.”

Moira only stared at you for a second, her mismatched eyes looking through you with a sort of intensity that rivaled these similar scenarios in your head.

“I wonder what my many detractors would think if you said that to them,” Moira said, her voice going soft. “You probably already know this, but I was something of a black sheep in their personal scientific field in my past. But without those who doubted me, Oasis wouldn’t had found me, and I wouldn’t be here, by your side.”

You felt there was a certain weight to Moira's words that you didn't quite have the history to understand. Some sort of incident you would probably never know about yourself, and yet you still found yourself sympathizing with it. You face began to burn and you looked down at your shoes before meekly replying, “Well, I don't know who they are but maybe they just weren’t ready for you. Maybe they didn’t deserve you.”

There was silence for a few long seconds and all you can hear is the faint shuffling of Moira's lab coat and shoes clicking against the tiled floors until the shadow of her looming form was standing over you. You didn’t look up yet and the rapid pounding in your chest drowned out any of your other senses. You were lured out of your panicked trance when Moira placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see those thin lips curled into a soft smile, her stare warm.

"What a sweet young lady you are, y/n."

"As sweet as you are brilliant, ma'am." You said, unable to help the blush blooming over your nose. "Now, you said you wanted to go over some things?"

"Of course," Moira said, her face a mere inches away from yours. "I wanted to try something a little different today."

Soon enough, Moira was kissing you. With her mouth still firmly clamped against yours, her tongue moved past your lips and to your teeth. One hand cupped your face while the other gently pushed you into the direction of the nearby lab table. How sudden yet natural it all felt almost had you losing your balance and collapsing into her embrace. This seemed so right and yet so risky. Moira may have authority here, but who said your skin was saved from such an act?

“Mm, what if someone catches us?” You asked in a hushed tone as Moira released your lips to instead kiss along your neck.

“Don’t tell me you’re becoming shy now, y/n. You wanted this more than anyone,” Moira took hold of your breast then, realizing her hand was beneath your shirt before you could even notice. At this point you don’t know if she’s talking about the position, the research, or the sinful fantasy that’s finally coming true.

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at me, dear. You're an open book."

"I-I'm sorry. This is so inappropriate."

“No, I insist. In all my years, I’ve never had such an eager assistant. I just had to wait until you’ve earned this, mo stór.”

“You really think I’m ready?”

“My keen intellect says so,” Moira said, pressing forward into the warm dampness consuming your crotch. You felt a similar heat from her as well and Moira didn’t hesitate to move her narrow hips into yours, causing you to make short little gasps as she went back to your mouth. Her hand continued to maneuver around your chest, pushing your shirt and bra past your torso and playing with an erect nipple.

“Such a lovely specimen,” Moira purred, rubbing her thumb against your breast. “And what pretty noises you make.”

She followed up this statement with another push of her hips, her leg now brushing up against yours and teasing your inner thigh. Her height alone makes you feel like you're being swallowed in her presence and you desperately wanted to sink deeper and deeper into her shadow. “Why don’t you get undressed, my little rabbit? I want to see all of you.”

“Yes but…” You looked down at the gloves covering both her hands, the objects of your curiosity for the past few weeks. “Can you take those off? Both of them, just for me.”

Moira blinked slowly, looking down at the latex covering her hands with only slight hesitance. Soon enough, she smiled, peeling them off and discarding the gloves with a nonchalant toss over her shoulder. “I suppose it is the least I can do.”

You stared in awe at what was before you. While Moira’s left hand was as normal as you remembered it, her right was that of a corpse-pale and purple and hosting a set of sickly and enlarged veins that bled into the impressive length of her nails. It was…amazing. “Can I touch them?”

Moira nodded and held her hand out to you. It was as cold as you thought it was going to be and you were surprised to see Moira stayed still as your fingers grazed over the veins and irritated skin.

“How did this happen? Did you do this?”

She smirked. “As if that should even be a question at this point.”

"Right, a 'black sheep'."

"The blackest one in the herd," Moira said proudly. “Now then, will you undress for me?”

Moira took a step away to give you some space, arms folded and a concentrated stare highlighting a pleased smile. Any hesitance you may have had around her before was diminished and you complied with her request immediately, stripping yourself out of your tunic, pants, and undergarments as quickly as possible. All the while Moira stared and you noticed the way she rubbed her legs together as your ass and your breasts were left out in the open air of the lab. You were never all that confident about your figure, but the way Moira looks at you grants a sort of reassurance that even your most miniscule flaws-baby fat, cellulite, little moles and unshaven hair-are nothing short of treasures in her eyes.

She approached you again, her hands caressing your hips and guiding you towards her for another long and intimate kiss. “I wonder where they find you people.”

“You know, testing scores and all that. Enough internships with the right people and you end up in some interesting places.”

Moira chuckled, “You kids have it so easy now.”

She lured close to your ear, her lips making a trail of kisses in between her softly spoken praise, “But I am so thankful to have you here.” As she did this, she slipped off her lab coat, letting it fall to the floor as if she had a million more to spare. “I normally work alone, but perhaps I should appreciate a helping hand when one is offered to me so generously.”

“M-Moira, I-uh-” She silenced you with another kiss, pushing you against the table again and making you rest on your back.

"Shhh," Moira leaned down to your quivering pussy, pushing a single finger into your hole. The length of her nails did concern you but her touch was gentle as it teased along your folds, soaking in the wetness dripping down your thighs. "Simply divine..." She said, placing her lips against your cunt before sucking and licking along your arousal.

"F-Fuck, Moira!"

Moira gripped your hips and continued her work, her tongue maneuvering around your exposed clit in little circles.

"Delicious, you are truly something to behold, mo stor. Don't quit on me just yet."

"Sorry, I'm not really used to this."

Moira grinned, the hand of sickly veins resting cold against your inner thigh and raising goosebumps along your skin. "Then I suppose there's no point in holding back."

Moira quickly pulled off her own slacks and undergarments and is on top of you, rutting her pussy against yours in quick, feral movements. She’s wet and the look of satisfaction as she grinds into your cunt has you on the brink of tears. You gripped onto her biceps with feeble hands, trying to take what she was giving without passing out. Moira is as intense and passionate as you would have hoped, her grip on both your body and mind a kind of bondage you never wanted to be released from. This was everything you could have possibly wanted. 

“Oh, _mo stor_. I wish you could see how breathtaking you look,” Moira was still grinding as she said this, the wet slap of your privates pressing together making the most satisfying backtrack to her words. “You’re everything I needed right now.”

“Mm, th-thank you, Doctor.”

"You would do anything for me, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, yes Doctor."

"You wanted me since we first met, but we both know I'm the one who has the hold on you."

"You're right!" You said, arms wrapping around Moira's neck as you rutted into her. "You're always right-Fuck, _ah!-_ I want you to have me. I'm yours."

Moira kissed your throat, the sound of something shuffling a little off from you. "Then allow me to oblige that request."

As you finally came with a loud whine, the ecstasy of your orgasm was almost enough to block out the sharp pain of the syringe digging into your throat and knocking you unconscious.

* * *

You awoke in a room you had yet to see before. You were still new to Oasis and the infrastructure of the space you occupied seemed to be in line with its aesthetics, but it didn’t make the fact you were finally luring yourself out of a drug induced coma any better. The lights hanging above your head weren’t at all pleasant to your eyes that had likely been wedged shut for hours. As you reflexively tried to move your arm to cover your vision, you were greeted with a stiff jolt and the resistance of a leathery strap holding it down. The same could be said for every other part of you, nothing but rows of restraints pinning you to a gurney. Your skin prickled as you saw you were also completely unclothed and a suspicious looking tube was poking into your left arm and connected to an overhead device you didn’t have the luxury of actually seeing.

“Moira…?” You asked weakly from the gurney, only able to turn your head to make out the rest of the room. A lab as well but much, much smaller and lacking any windows. As if it were tucked away into some hidden part of the main building, completely detached from anyone who could possibly help you.

The circumstances were grim enough but the visual of equipment you’d usually see before an operation laid out on nearby tables and jars filled with things you’ve only ever caught illustrations of in your studies made your heart sink.

“Moira? Moira!”

“No need to shout, báire. I never left you.” Her voice came to you from above. A shadowy mist like something out of a nightmare crept past your gurney before cementing itself into the familiar form of Moira’s body. Back in her lab coat and her hair slicked into place once more, though the look in her eyes wasn’t the one of brilliant ambition you’d fallen for so easily. This look was as malevolent and alien as the smoky aura that made her flesh once more. Not something you understood or really wanted to.

“Moira, what’s happening? Where am I?”

“Hush now, you look so stressed,” Moira cooed sweetly, her hand caressing your cheek. 

“Moira, what’s going on?" You hesitated for a moment as the weight of the situation began to press on you. "D-Did you plan this?"

“Well, I can't say it was my first course of action, but as things began to change, I had no choice but to act as soon as possible.” Moira replied, one hand holding your head in place while the other absently pet your hair. “You’re quite intelligent for your age, y/n. I didn’t expect to make so much progress on my experiment but you coming along did speed things along quite nicely. I just wanted to show my gratitude for your contribution.”

“By killing me?”

Moira shook her head, offering a smile much too content for such a situation. “No, no nothing that permanent. If everything works out your cellular structure will regenerate much too quickly for you to even be on the brink of death. But of course…” She paused for a minute, eyeing the giant tube of fluid that swirled ominously behind you, only the ghostly glow evident from where you lied. “I can’t heal you if there’s nothing to be healed.”

You tried to follow as Moira moved away from your gurney to tamper with a control panel hooked up to the immense machine. “What you said about transferring a more concentrated dosage to a specimen sounded a little too tempting to not try myself. So tempting that throwing another house pet under the bus just seemed a little...anticlimactic. I needed something a little more sentient than a rabbit to give me results worth recording. I have to admit, you inspired me."

You could feel tears coming, a bile of anger and fear working up your gut. You wanted this to be a dream, but your time of slumber had clearly passed after that needle struck your throat.

“I know you must be a little nervous, but think of it this way: you’ll be the first to experience a new wave in medical achievement. You did seem to love that old paper of mine, this is really all just due process for what I wanted to do with my research.”

The rage that you were holding back in your throat finally bubbled to the surface in a mixture of terror and anger. 

“I hate you,” Being the only coherant phrase out of your heated rambles. All the while, Moira watched your temper tantrum with a bemused look, not even flinching as you thrashed helplessly against your restraints, cursing her name. “And I see now why everyone else hates you."

“We both know you don’t mean that. And besides, you really shouldn’t worry,” She said, watching with a smirk as the sickly purple fluid flowed from the tubes on her command. “It’ll only hurt for a second. Now before you start screaming, do you mind telling me your favorite flavor?”


End file.
